Rebirth
by Haunted Emerald Depths
Summary: It worked" - I heard the words in my head, but they were not my own thoughts. I realized then that I hadn’t died. I was reborn. But into what I still had yet to learn... - Edward's life up until his change


**Note:** If you haven't read 'Twilight' yet, _please don't read this fic! _The end contains a **spoiler**, and I don't want to be held responsible for ruining anything for people.

Anyway, I know I should be updating other fics, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone.

I have been in love with the 'Twilight' series for some time now. I'm surprised that I haven't felt like writing a fic of some kind before now. Hell, I haven't even _read_ any (_what's wrong with me??_).

Luckily, though, an idea for one came to me as I started rereading 'Twilight' a week or so ago. We don't know too much about Edward's past, so I figured that I'd make stuff up, up to the point where Carlisle finds him.

Disclaimer: I don't own Edward or Carlisle, but the other characters are figments of my crazy imagination. The last part of this fic is a twist off of what information Stephenie gave us in the book.

Please enjoy!

- - -

Rebirth

- - -

_June 20, 1901 – Chicago, IL_

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Masen. It's a boy."

The doctor placed the infant into the woman's waiting arms. She circled them around her newborn son, a shaky hand coming up to brush aside the damp, light brown hair. With tired eyes, she looked up at her husband, joy radiating from every sweaty pore on her body. He could almost read her thoughts, knowing the name she had in mind. With a smile, he nodded in agreement. The young mother couldn't have looked happier. With her husband's consent in mind, she turned back toward her son.

"We're glad to finally have you with us, Edward Anthony Masen."

- - -

_1903_

"Look, honey! Edward's walking!"

Both mother and father looked on joyfully as their young son struggled to remain upright on his feet. He wobbled as he put one foot in front of the other, succeeding in taking a few steps forward. But then, with a small grunt of surprise, he fell onto his bottom.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Elizabeth said soothingly as she picked up her tearful son. "You'll get it next time."

- - -

_1906_

There was barely a whisper of sound as a pair of small feet flew over the carpeted hallway. The shadowy figure veered sharply to the left and was airborne within seconds. A squeal of sound escaped it as it crash-landed onto two other figures, both of which sat bolt upright in surprise.

"Edward?" one whispered sleepily, his mother; she peered at him through the semi-darkness of the breaking dawn. The small boy bounced up and down in between his parents in excitement.

"I take it that you really look forward to your first day of school, son," Edward senior said with a tired chuckle. His son nodded enthusiastically. Elizabeth's eyes suddenly started glistening; she drew the young Edward to her chest.

"Oh, my boy is growing up so fast," she whispered. She looked down at him, smiling. "You will meet other children your own age, play fun games, and learn a lot of new things. You will have so much fun."

"You've already showed us how smart you're becoming, son," his father said. "You read and write very well for someone your age. You will go far in life."

- - -

_1915_

I meandered slowly down the hallway, dragging out each footstep. I stopped in front of my parents' bedroom door. I knew behind it was my mother. I raised a hand hesitantly before knocking softly. There was a slight pause before the knock was acknowledged.

"Come in."

I turned the knob and opened the door slowly. My mother was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a few worn photographs sitting on the quilt before her. She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. At that moment, I knew I was right; something was bothering her. Over the past few days, I had noticed her becoming more withdrawn and quiet.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly, going to sit by her. She made room for me and sniffed quietly.

"Oh, Edward, how is it that you always seem to know when something isn't right?" she whispered with a sad smile. Her face then crumpled as she leaned toward me and embraced me tightly, crying. "I wanted to wait to tell you and your father, but I guess I can't any longer." She pulled away, holding my biceps tightly. It hurt to see her so upset. "Your grandfather passed away several days ago. His health was failing. There wasn't anything else the physicians could do to keep him alive."

Receiving this information was like a blow to the chest. I struggled to keep my breath as I rubbed my mother's back soothingly. It was going to be hard for us for a while; she loved her father deeply, and he was almost like a second father to me.

"It'll be okay, mother," I muttered quietly, looking down at the pictures that were on the bed. They each showed my grandfather smiling back at us. "We'll get through this somehow."

"Thank you, Edward," she whispered, pulling me into another hug. "You've always known what to say to make me feel better."

- - -

_1918_

My father turned on the radio, a very grim expression etched onto his face.

"…_We advise everyone to stay indoors as much as possible,_" the man over the broadcast was stating. "_Stay out of contact with anyone who appears to be showing symptoms of this epidemic. Always wash your hands. If you start feeling out of the ordinary, contact a health service _immediately_. If you follow these precautions, your chances of falling ill will be lowered…_"

My father turned the knob and the broadcast was cut off. We all looked a little more hopeful at this news, feeling that we could get through this without a problem.

But that hope was in vain.

- -

A week later the three of us were at the nearest health clinic. I was laid out on a stretcher, my parents on either side of me. I drifted in and out of consciousness, extreme fatigue washing over me. I barely heard the moans of discomfort and agony around me. My mother babbled incoherently in her fevered state of mind; my father was mostly quiet. When I was aware of my surroundings, I was frightened beyond reason. Would we get out of this alive?

Doctors wove in between our stretchers, doing what they could to help us. I vaguely noticed some stretchers being moved out of our large room now and again. The fates of the occupants, I hadn't a clue. I did not want to think about it.

The pale doctor who tended to me (I later learned his name to be Carlisle) and my parents was very compassionate. He loved his job and did it well. There were some moments where he gently brushed a hand over my sweaty forehead and whispered soothing words to me. I don't know if it was just my fever that made it so, but his skin always felt extremely cold.

There was then a day, though, where my parents' health turned for the worst. Both coughed violently, shuddering with chills and pain. My heart ached for them. I wanted to yell and scream when two nurses came to take their stretchers away. I wanted to stay with them until the end. But I was too delirious to form coherent words.

I never saw either of my parents again.

- -

After that moment, I pretty much lost my will to live. Without my parents, I didn't want to get better anymore. The same doctor that had been taking care of me stood by me often after that, looking very thoughtful…

- - -

_I can't help but feel sorry for this young man before me. He lost both of his parents to the influenza within the same hour. He was never given the news, but he seemed to know nonetheless. And still, his mother's last words will not stop echoing in my mind…_

"_Please, do whatever you can to save my son Edward. He has his whole life ahead of him," she whispered before coughing violently, blood frothing at the corners of her mouth. I could smell its rich aroma very clearly. I felt her grip weaken in mine. "Please, promise me."_

"_I promise…"I whispered. Then she was gone._

_I knew what I could do to keep that promise, but there would be many consequences and sacrifices…_

- - -

I could tell it was the end for me. I could no longer lift up my head. My fever was raging, and I developed a violent cough. Nurses milled around me, pricking me with needles left and right and forcing me to drink vile concoctions. Nothing worked.

As it was growing dark, my doctor came up to my stretcher. He gripped its handles and started moving me toward the door. The nurses looked on sadly, realizing what was going on.

"It's too late for him," the doctor stated quietly. "I'll take him to the morgue personally."

We went through the door and down the hall. A feeling of foreboding and fear washed over me. I didn't want to live without my parents, but I was still scared of death.

"Don't worry, son, it will be alright."

I suddenly felt chilled, even more so then usual. I focused more on my surroundings, suddenly realizing that we were in a basement of some kind. Even through my muddled mind, I felt that this wasn't right. I also realized that he was carrying me, but I had never felt him lift me up.

I was laid down in a corner. I tried to struggle against my confusion.

"Why am I here--?"

"Don't worry, Edward," he cut me off. "You'll be alright."

I opened my mouth to question, but I coughed instead. I tasted blood in my mouth.

What happened next I will always remember for decades to come.

The doctor tilted my head to the side and leaned forward, his mouth open. I felt a sharp pain in my neck as his teeth broke my sweaty skin.

My mind suddenly went blank with pain. It felt as if the blood that was in my veins was replaced with a liquid fire that raced from head to toe. I clenched my eyes shut against the pain. I was sure I was yelling, but no one saved me from the suffering.

"I'm sorry, son," the doctor said calmly as he watched me struggle. "This will all be over soon."

It wasn't over for a few days.

I opened my eyes when the pain receded, leaving an empty echoing in my mind, taking my fever and delirium with it. I saw the doctor kneeling before me, scrutinizing my face. Wasn't I supposed to be dead?

_It worked_.

I heard the words in my head, but they were not my own thoughts.

I realized then that I hadn't died. I was reborn.

But into what I still had yet to learn.

- - -

Fin

- - -

I apologize if there is any confusion between points of view. It's just the way my train of thought was working.

The first three sections are in third person, but the rest are in Edward's point of view, except for the italicized part near the end. That one is Carlisle's.

Anyway, please leave a review. Let me know what you thought!


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